


Seeing Monsters

by Troodon



Series: The Soul in the Machine [3]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Body Horror, Fuck Or Die, Gerome is Not Well, Harm to Children, it's all momentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Troodon/pseuds/Troodon
Summary: You didn't think I'd let Gerome get away with consuming Void-gunk without serious consequences, did you?





	Seeing Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not tagging this as non- or dub-con since Gerome does give his explicit consent to what's going on, but proceed with caution if you're squicked by that sort of thing.

“Daddy!”

Gerome hunched his shoulders as he paced through the bowels of the ship. Ever since the mansion, ever since he got that disgusting, thick slime in his mouth, he’d been hallucinating shit. It started with shit moving in the corners of his eyes. Now he could hear things. People. They had become impossible to ignore any longer.

“Daddy come play! Jennie got me a new doll!”

“Shut up, shut up, you’re dead.” Gerome rubbed his eyes, trying to banish the image of his daughter with her eyes glowing red, blood running like tears down her cheeks, her spinal augmentation cooking her skin.

“Darling?”

“No, no, no, no,” Gerome moaned, twisting away. Katarina lurched forward, his knife sticking out of her skull.

“Come back to bed. It’s cold,” she whispered. Gerome fled.

He slammed through the door to the hold, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the shipping crates. “It ain’t real,” he told himself. “They’re dead an’ gone. You fucked up an’ they died.”

“Gerome, darling, why didn’t you save me?” Gerome covered his ears, but he could still hear her. “Why did you kill me? I loved you!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sobbed. His legs gave out, and Gerome slid to the floor. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“Gerome.”

Gerome turned. He had to. Corvo stood in the doorway, looking down at him with an icy rage twisting his face. “It’s your fault. You failed us, you stupid bastard.”

Gerome flinched and curled in on himself, covering his ears again. He could feel the hot tears running down his face, but when he scrubbed at his eyes, he saw blood coating his hands. “No, no, no, no, pleas-” His voice cut off as his mouth filled with the taste of copper. He gagged and spat, but saw nothing. Emily. He should. He was infected. He needed to warn his kid.

“Help,” he whispered. “Oh, gods. Someone, please.”

*

The Outsider watched Emily leave. Revealing personal information about himself felt odd. Not even Corvo knew for certain about his life before becoming the Outsider. But it had felt right to tell Emily after all she had witnessed. After she had offered him compassion. He'd consider whether kindness was a hereditary trait later. First, he had to find Burton. He stood up and dusted himself off.

The Outsider knew something was wrong with Burton. He’d seen him get a mouthful of Void substance. He’d seen they way Gerome had gone quiet after Stilton’s mansion. Part of his mind was running, calculating the amount Burton could have ingested. How quickly he would be suffering the effects. How badly. How soon.

Whether this was going to be a rescue mission or a mercy kill.

He followed the tracker he’d planted on Burton. He’d planted them on most of the Whalers, Emily included. After all, Corvo would have wanted him to take care of his daughter.

The Outsider’s modified hearing picked up the sound of a tortured moan. The chances of this being a mercy kill ticked up by half a percentage. He followed it down into the depths of the ship to the hold.

“Burton?” The Outsider pushed the door open, peering inside. Thermal imaging picked up a figure curled up, surprisingly small for a man of  Gerome’s height. Even from the doorway, he was visibly shaking.

“Burton,” he said, cautiously approaching. Burton didn’t react.

The Outsider reached out, intending to get his attention. As soon as his fingertips brushed against Burton’s shoulder, the man unfolded, swinging uselessly at him.

“Stop! Stop it! Get the fuck away!”

“Burton! Gerome!” The Outsider caught his hands in his, stilling him. “It’s me. I’m real.”

Finally, Gerome opened his eyes, panting in fear and distress. His eyes, usually grey, were covered by a thin film of black.

“Burton, you need to tell me how much you ingested,” the Outsider demanded. “You need to get the Void out of your system before it drives you mad.”

“I don’t- I can’t- Outsider?” Gerome’s eyes slid to the side, widening as he stared at something over the Outsider’s shoulder. He twitched his head away with an animal keen.   
The Outsider started another program, one that would calculate the most efficient way to save the man. “Stop that,” he ordered. “Look at me. It’s not real. Focus on what is.”

“I fuckin’  _ know _ they ain’t real,” Gerome snapped raggedly. “But I’m still fuckin’  _ seein’ _ them!”

A good sign. If he was still able to realise the difference, his chances of surviving corruption was exponentially higher.

The process finished its calculations. 78% chance of success. He’d have to risk it.

“Gerome, focus.” Gerome flinched again with an animal noise of pain. Then he lunged forwards. It took the Outsider an embarrassing three nanoseconds to realise he wasn’t being attacked.

Gerome buried his face in the Outsider’s shoulder. He could feel the man shaking, smell the fear-sweat on him. Gerome was practically climbing into his lap to get closer.

“You should break my neck,” Gerome said, suddenly. The Outsider stared down at him in shock. “I can’t- It’s too much, an’ it’s gettin’ worse. I'm gonna become dangerous, rabid. I can feel it. I don't wanna hurt anyone. Don’t… Don’t make me fuckin’ beg.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Burton,” the Outsider snapped. “I’m going to execute a process that should save you.”

“Oh thank fuck,” he gasped. “Fuckin’ do it. Whatever it is.”

“It’s… a form of biological reset,” the Outsider explained. “You need to orgasm.”

“ _ Do I fuckin’ look like I’m in the fuckin’ mood?!” _

“In ‘the mood’ or not, it has a 78% chance of saving your mind,” the Outsider snapped. Then he forced himself to relax. “I’ll help, but I need your consent.”

Gerome shuddered, flinching again. “Are you fuckin’ serious?! Fine. Yes, fuck, please. Do it.”

The Outsider slid a hand down between their bodies. He found Gerome’s stupidly ostentatious belt buckle, and paused. “You’re su-”

“I said fuckin’ do it!”

The Outsider freed Gerome from his jeans. He was soft, as was expected considering his situation, but he needed to change that.

“I’m going to induce a state of artificial arousal,” the Outsider warned, activating the glands on either side of his jaw. “Don’t bite me, please.”

He forced Gerome’s head up and kissed him, pressing his tongue inside to deliver the drug. He could feel Gerome stiffen, then he suddenly went slack in his grip.

“Shh, there we go,” the Outsider said, trying to soothe him. He knew that, as an android he couldn’t feel nausea, but he still felt sick seeing Gerome’s eyes go unfocused.

“Holy shit,” Gerome breathed, a flush rising in his cheeks, “That works fast.”

“It was designed to,” he replied. Gerome’s eyelids slid shut, and his shoulders hunched up around his ears. The Outsider pulled him close, letting him press his face against him again.

“Think of something nice. Think of… Think of Corvo.” He licked his hand, getting it slick.

Gerome barked out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think you want me t’do that.”

The Outsider slid a hand around Gerome’s cock, feeling him twitch and harden. “Think of how he moves. That predatory grace.”

Gerome’s hips hitched up. “Ah, fuck,” he swore, fisting his hands in the Outsider’s shirt.

“He’s so powerful, so dangerous. But he’d be so gentle and sweet for you, I think.” The Outsider rolled the ball of his thumb up Gerome’s cock, eliciting a whine. “I can perfectly mimic his voice, his mannerisms.”

“Don’t,” Gerome gasped. “Don’t. Just. Keep doin’ this. Just you.”

The Outsider blinked, oddly touched. “Alright. Did you know Corvo likes being tied up, on display?”

Gerome keened. “Oh fuck, there’s an image.”

“He loves having his scalp rubbed. You could fuck his face while he’s completely blissed out on it.”

“Fuck, oh gods,” Gerome panted, screwing into the Outsider’s fist now. “C’mon, please.”

“He begs so pretty,” the Outsider told him, nipping at Gerome’s ear. “Drive him hard enough, he forgets how to speak Gristolian.  _ Cazzo, cazzo, _ ” he murmured, careful to use his own voice. “ _ Per favore, per favore!” _

Gerome spasmed, keening. Come dripped down between them, slicking his hand.

“That’s it,” the Outsider coaxed. “Come on then.”

Gerome shuddered, jolting once or twice more with each stroke. The Outsider could hear some stitches pop as Gerome clenched his fists, riding out the pleasure.

Shivers wracked his body from time to time as Gerome tried to catch his breath. The Outsider tucked him back into his clothing, and pet along his spine in an effort to soothe him.

“Gerome,” The Outsider prompted. “I need to check your eyes.”

Gerome lifted his head, blearily focussing on the Outsider. He checked the other man for any sign of Void corruption, and finding none, relaxed. Gerome let his head drop back down onto the Outsider’s shoulder.

“It worked. Burton, I’d… like to apologise.”

Instead of the expected barb, Gerome sobbed.

“Gerome?”

“Sorry,” he hissed out, clearly fighting his tears. “Sorry,  _ fuck _ .”

“I can get someone for you,” the Outsider said, perhaps a little desperately. “Someone more qualified.”

“Shut up,” Gerome mumbled wetly. “It’s been a long fuckin’ coupla months.”

The Outsider gently rubbed Gerome’s back, feeling the knobs of his spine under his hand. He’d been watching the Whalers and Emily. They’d all lost weight, but Gerome was losing the most.

“‘M sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t fuckin’ deserve to mourn. ‘S my fault everythin’ went to shit. If I’d been faster, better…”

“I highly doubt even you could have foreseen Delilah,” the Outsider said, dryly.

“I was on my way back, I coulda been there, stopped her!”

“No, what would have happened is that you would have either been turned to stone as well or, more likely, executed on the spot. And then Emily would have carved a bloody path across Dunwall and Karnaca without anyone to stop her.”

“You can’t fuckin’ know that!” Gerome protested.

“I can, actually,” the Outsider corrected. “I can run the probabilities based on the data I have and come to the most likely conclusion. You know I’m right.”

“I don’t know shit,” Gerome said, trying for his usual acerbity and only managing to sound watery. He began to pull away, scrubbing at his eyes, only to come to an abrupt halt when the Outsider pulled him back in.

“Uh, Outsider?”

“Kindly shut up, and take the comfort from the one person you don’t need to be strong for,” the Outsider said waspishly. Gerome hesitated, then went limp against him, starting to shake under the force of his tears.

The Outsider raised his internal heating to warm Gerome, and let the man finally break down.

When the sobs finally abated, the Outsider let Gerome finally pull away.

“Fuck, now I have a headache,” he complained, thickly. He stumbled to his feet, shuffling awkwardly. “I have one more thin’ I gotta ask you.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t tell Em,” Gerome said. “Let me do it when this is all over.”

“I doubt you will re-experience symptoms, so I see no reason to tell Emily anything.”

“Thanks,” Gerome grunted, staring at his feet. Then he looked up, meeting and holding the Outsider’s gaze.

“And thanks for helpin’ me.” Gerome’s eyes were clear, and entirely too knowing. “You’re a lot like me, so I ain’t gonna say anythin’ further, but… Thanks.”

“Don’t think on it,” the Outsider replied. Gerome turned to leave, and the Outsider came to a decision.

“Burton?” Gerome turned back, raising an inquiring eyebrow. “Why did you start treating me as a person?”

Gerome blinked, nonplussed. “‘Cause you are,” he said, baffled. “You love him, anyone can see that. It ain’t like you can program love.”

The Outsider blinked at him. “You are a very unique person, Gerome Burton.”

“That’s what they say,” he said with a crooked grin. He flicked the Outsider a two-fingered salute and walked out of the hold.

The Outsider stared after him. Perhaps, all these years, he’d been very wrong about Gerome. If and when they got Corvo back from the dead, he was going to have a very important talk with him.


End file.
